


all you have is your fire

by julesby10



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Post Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 10:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julesby10/pseuds/julesby10
Summary: “Take care of each other.”Adora hopes they can.





	all you have is your fire

It starts to be real when she sees Glimmer again in Hordak’s lab, it sinks in when they’re finally back in Brightmoon under the runestone.

Smiles, laughter, the relief of victory is somehow muffled, and for a second She-Ra has no idea why.

“I guess I should go find my mom.”

Glimmer.

She’s talking about being grounded, but she sounds happy, happy Etheria is still all there in one piece with everyone safe.

She-Ra stops, her heart sinking to the bottom of her stomach. How is she supposed to tell her what happened in the space between realities? How is she supposed to tell her that her mother won’t be there to welcome her back?

She-Ra turns around bracing for explanations, but she knows she will never be really ready.

“Adora, what is it?”

And there she goes, worrying for others before herself. Glimmer, always positive and always supportive, selfless even in the direst of situations. At times, Adora wishes she wasn’t.

One step, two, She-Ra’s legs are too long and don’t give Adora the time to think about what to say, how to face Glimmer’s slightly furrowed brow, how to give answers to the pressing questions in her clear lilac eyes. 

In this form, when she’s She-Ra, Glimmer looks so much smaller, especially this up close. But her gaze is there, strong and unwavering, unrelenting, looking up in She-Ra’s bright blue irises.

In a flash of gold, Adora transforms back to her plain self. Right now, She-Ra is of no use, she has fulfilled her task as saviour of Etheria. Adora believes that she really didn’t.

Today's hero is someone else.

Even as herself, Adora still has to bend down slightly to properly hug Glimmer. She loops her arms around her shoulders, tight enough to know they're both real.

Adora feels her eyes fill with tears, ready to spill again as the dam she'd built breaks down in a million pieces. She's tried to dry her eyes and it didn't work, she'll try again and it won't work.

Her voice is strained as she gathers the courage needed to talk. The words claw up her throat, raw and fragile, glass shards digging into her flesh.

One of her hands slides gently to Glimmer’s head, pressing her further in the crook of her neck, as if she could protect her just with that simple gesture.

“Angella, she stayed behind, she-”

Adora doesn’t know if she wants to go on, if she even _ can_, maybe if she just stays silent it will all turn out to be just another nightmare, one they can all wake up from.

A shiver runs through Glimmer’s body as the realisation hits her full force. She gasps and reciprocates Adora’s hold, maybe in understanding, most likely looking for comfort. She holds her friend tight enough to hurt, tight enough to not let herself slip away.

“She stayed behind. She saved us.”

It’s when the hug breaks, when Glimmer pushes back to look Adora in the eyes, that her tears start to spill copiously down her full cheeks.

Adora is tempted to try and dry them, cradle Glimmer’s face in her hands, but she knows nothing can stop the faucet running. Not now, at least. So she puts her hands on Glimmer’s small shoulders and gently presses their foreheads together.

It’s a measly way of passing on a goodbye gift.

Glimmer’s eyes close and soon Adora’s do too. She wonders how much of Angella they see in each other, how much it hurts to know she won’t be there anymore. Brightmoon is a queenless kingdom, and the princess is a motherless child.

Frosta, sweet thing, is the first one to come up to them both, the others come soon enough. Bow and his glossy eyes, Perfuma and her empathy, Mermista and her silence that speaks louder than any words.

Time seems to come to a halt. Adora has long since realised she's not alone, the friends around them only reinforce that belief. But now she has to be there for the person who cared for her when she couldn't do it herself.

*

_ "Glimmer?" _

_ "Right here, Adora." _

*

Hasty steps break the spell, five guards greet them back together with a very worried Castaspella, who's only relieved in seeing them back all in one piece. Her expression darkens when she notices Adora's gaze, bloodshot cerulean staring back with a thousand apologies. She looks at Glimmer, desperately clinging to the red of Adora’s jacket and failing to hide her sobs. She tries to ask, but Adora shakes her head before she can get any sound out. Two things Castaspella understands: that something bigger than any of these kids has happened and that the glaring absence of Angella is far more than preoccupying.

“Guards.”

The voice is, unexpectedly, Adora’s. Hoarse and pained, it reminds Castaspella of something older than the world.

“Take her away, please.”

She’s referring to Shadow Weaver who has not yet said a word, although it’s unusual for her to not be taunting and venomous in her remarks. She has no place with them, she never has and she never will, but now more than ever.

The guards exchange a doubtful glance, only to look at Castaspella for any confirmation. She sighs and nods, wholeheartedly agreeing with Adora’s choice.

Silence permeates the air, as three pairs of footsteps echo down the hallways to the makeshift holding cell.

Adora’s decision is probably a rushed one, but she doesn’t care. Carefully, one of her arms slips under Glimmer’s knees and she picks her up without a word. She’s still breathlessly sobbing in the crook of her neck and Adora really has stopped trying to hold back her own tears.

She comes to a halt in front of Castaspella and the remaining guards, wanting to kneel under the weight of the words she has to utter a second time. She can’t find her voice in the desert that is her mouth, every syllable a handful of sand, so she whispers.

“The queen… she sacrificed herself to save Etheria. I am so sorry.”

Castaspella understands now.

The adults then find themselves face to face with the most unexpected worst possibility, in front of a little girl, who’s barely trying to hold back sobs, voice trembling as she explains that the queen won't be back.

Castaspella bites her tongue. Everyone has the right to grieve their own way, but there are some luxuries they cannot afford now. She decides that she will be there for her brother’s kingdom, for her _niece’s _kingdom, because Brightmoon needs a reagent and Glimmer, right now, is anything but.

She nods, placing a gentle hand on Adora’s shoulder. “Go.”

They are all so young, these children, they don’t deserve any of what has happened to them, of what they had to witness.

Adora only now looks at her and she is immediately ridden with guilt, shame, grief. She couldn’t be the hero this time, she was the one who was supposed to be gone, and yet.

She moves, one step mechanically placed after the other. She hears an invitation to stay in the castle, if they need, if they want. No celebration will be held tonight, but the palace is still a safe place to be. She knows Bow will be around, she’s not sure about the others.

By the time her feet have brought her in front of the princess’ quarters, Glimmer has stopped convulsing in her arms but still has to raise her head or let go of Adora’s neck.

Adora sighs, aware of her own wet cheeks and closed throat, before pushing the door open with her back. Setting foot in this room again brings them back to an easier time, to when life almost looked normal, if you could ignore the war out of the window for a moment.

Slowly, Adora moves towards the cushioned windowsill to lay Glimmer between the many pillows. She’s always wondered what was the need for so many of them, now she might understand.

She bends down slightly, but Glimmer’s grip is still strong, it screams _ don’t let go _ and _ please help_. Adora doesn’t know if she has the strength to let go.

“Adora.”

“Right here, Glimmer.”

“Stay?”

It’s only a whisper, but it’s so hesitant, vulnerable that Adora feels the tears start up all over again. It’s worded like a question but reads like a plea. She moves one of her hands to stroke the short mane of pink hair.

I’m here Glimmer, she says, I won’t go.

Glimmer’s only answer is a sob that sounds like all her ribs and her heart broke at once and hurts like it. She lets go of Adora’s strong shoulders with shaking arms and watches her move around, incapable of helping, acting, paralyzed. She feels gentle fingertips unhook her cape, the fabric sliding under her to be put away. Then Adora kneels and takes off her boots, placing them together somewhere near. The gloves are the last thing to go.

Glimmer sees how Adora’s eyes immediately go to the mark left by Shadow Weaver’s magic on her wrist. It hurts, it burns, but not as much as the gaping hole in her heart, a chasm that swallows light and everything it touches, so she shakes her head when Adora silently asks, mouth set and tear streaks running down her cheeks.

Adora then gets rid of her own boots and jacket, almost hastily and without nearly as much of the gentleness she’s used with her, before climbing into Glimmer’s space and looking at her with glassy blue eyes.

She’s tired, she’s scared, Glimmer can see that, but she’s also _ there _. Alive, breathing and mostly unscathed, strong as she’s always been. Glimmer has no idea what she’d be doing if those bright irises weren’t staring right into hers, if Adora hadn’t come back. Somehow, Glimmer knows she’d love Adora in any other life, in any other universe, in any instance of the two of them ever meeting each other.

Glimmer reaches for Adora’s face, rests the palm of her hand on her cheek and dries a tear with her thumb. Sometimes she forgets what it’s like to touch her skin without the gloves.

She has no idea when her own tears start up again.

Her heart was burned to ashes the moment truth dawned on her, she’s sure, but she feels it beating in her throat, in her fingertips, behind her eyes, eating away at something that simply is no more. It aches and pushes, and Glimmer chokes on it as she tries to breathe but can’t.

Then Adora tugs her closer, buries one hand in Glimmer’s hair and gathers her in her arms, hoping to hold her together when she doesn’t seem to know how anymore.

There’s a violence to her sadness, her grief grips both of them like barbed wire, her sobs tear her apart with clawed hands. Her mourning is a war, brutal and bloody.

In some twisted way, Adora still thinks she’s beautiful, the same force of nature that swept her away when they first met on opposite sides of a conflict. She’s still beautiful with exhaustion lining her mouth and floods behind eyes of periwinkle, earthquakes behind her ribcage.

And Adora, Adora feels empty. She shouldn’t be here, holding Glimmer as she does, and yet this feels right in all the wrong ways.

Glimmer’s gasps ring hollow against Adora’s chest, her hands almost tearing the fabric of her shirt in a desperate attempt to find something to ground her.

There’s guilt in the pit of her stomach, it seeps into her veins and corrodes her skin like acid. She feels responsible because she’s She-Ra, the saviour, the hero, the champion of Etheria, but she was unable to stop the Queen. She finds no other to place the blame on but herself.

_ “Let's be honest, all of this is your fault."_

Catra’s words echo in her ears, grating and deafening as if she were whispering them from right beside her, voice metallic and broken just as she had been in between realities. Adora had convinced herself that, no, this wasn’t her fault, Catra had been the one to pull the lever. Now she's not so sure.

She looks at Glimmer, curled up as close to her as she can, so small and looking every bit like the child she is.

Her princess, her_ queen. _

She can almost feel the weight of the golden crown Glimmer will have to wear, the heaviness of the wings on her back. Adora silently brushes trembling fingertips between Glimmer’s shoulder blades.

Her vision blurs, tears welling in her eyes. 

“I love you,” she says. “I love you,” again and again like it’s the only thing she’s ever learned to say. 

Because an apology will never be enough. Not to Glimmer, not to her.

At that Glimmer presses herself further into the embrace, as her wails echo against the stained glass of the window.

_ “Take care of each other.” _

Adora hopes they can.


End file.
